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Cassidy - Bang Bang lyrics
[Hook: Masspike Miles]
 I put the "b" in "banger"
 Used to getting money
 Now you know I'm no stranger to the hustle
 I'm strapped up like a raider from the tomb
 Force with my platoon
 I do shit you boys don't do
 I'm known in the streets as a nigga that done did it
 Put infrared beams on your fitted
 Trust me, you can get it
 Nigga, you can get it
 Throw the handle back and watch the motherfucker bang, bang, bang
 [Verse 1: Cassidy]
 Yes
 If I'm not the best, nigga, then I got next
 Cause I talk that shit like a nigga with hot breath
 You niggas not threats, them things'll bang in
 Things could change if you never got shot yet
 I'm quick to bust, like a man that never got sex
 But you don't get the message, like a blind man that got text
 I used to love to box, until I shot Tecs
 Now I never brawl, like a broad that ain't got breasts
 I'm not press, I don't wanna talk
 Man, my motherfucking gun'll spark and make a nigga somersault
 I'll shoot the damn thing and make a nigga handspring
 Or I'll spark steel and make a nigga cartwheel
 Matter of fact, clap the gat, turn him to an acrobat
 Have the cat flip around before I put the pistol down
 Your lame mouth which you better keep my name out
 I ain't in a gang, I don't bang, I just banged out
[Hook]
 [Verse 2: Styles P]
 I'm back out riding
 Gun at your head, bullet the center like Bonham
 Shotgun with the shotgun seat recliningCassidy - Bang Bang - http://motolyrics.com/cassidy/bang-bang-lyrics.html
 I pop up on niggas
 Let it off, close shop up on niggas
 Infection, stay in the cut on niggas
 I'm in a whole nother section
 I could look in the mirror, my reflection
 Moves like Inception
 Extraordinary gentleman, what more could I say?
 Got the picture in the cut, like Dorian Gray
 I'm a shooter like Allan Quartermain, I give you more than pain
 First page in the hard nigga Hall of Fame
 Duane Darock on the beat
 SP the Ghost, I make it pop on the streets
 Probably in the spot for a week
 One eye open, with the Glock on a sleeve
[Hook]
 [Verse 3: Chubby Jag]
 I let the thing blam, they call me the Rain Man
 I'm out of bullets, get 'em hung, nigga, Hang Man
 You get me, hang it up; there's problems, I flame it up
 Bang it up, snap back, long t, banger tucked
 Yup, my block pitching, yeah I got pigeons
 I'm into cooking, I fuck with bitches that got kitchens
 If I can't find Jordan, then I'll rob Pippen
 I leave 'em bloody and skin red, like Rob Griffin
 Home real spit, the shotty blast, you gon' see the body bags
 Men in black, no Will Smith
 Real shit, used to grind and we still grind
 Beefing with the grill time, full metal, steel time
 Niggas getting stole on trying to steal mine
 Cock pack, peel mine
 Tape 'em up, real time
 Jump you, the mask on and Berettas bang
 Sound clear, holmes? Out here, we gonna let it bang
[Hook]








